


I'm Sweet and Salty

by galacticsugar



Series: Great British Bake Off AU [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship Sort Of, M/M, Swearing, This might as well be a crack fic, Tumblr Prompt, gbbo au, i apologize for the zaniness, michael wants to impress calum but he's an absolute idiot, or do i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticsugar/pseuds/galacticsugar
Summary: Michael’s got a point to prove. Fucking Calum doesn’t think he’s capable of something as simple as baking a cake. He may not be able to bake anything fancy like Calum and Luke and Ashton can, but he can certainly mix some flour and sugar and eggs in a bowl and throw it in the oven. It can’t be that difficult.***for the tumblr prompt "i made this for you" with bake off au malum.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: Great British Bake Off AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132871
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: tumblr prompts - ways to say i love you





	I'm Sweet and Salty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanluke/gifts).



> for the tumblr prompt "i made this for you" for bake off malum from their biggest cheerleader, [mandie](https://cakelftv.tumblr.com/).
> 
> for whatever reason i just cannot see bake off malum as anything but completely chaotic, so this is...basically a sitcom episode.

Michael’s got a point to prove. Fucking Calum doesn’t think he’s capable of something as simple as baking a cake. He may not be able to bake anything fancy like Calum and Luke and Ashton can, but he can certainly mix some flour and sugar and eggs in a bowl and throw it in the oven. It can’t be _that_ difficult. 

And Michael’s not cheesy, really he’s not, but he’d like to do something a little special when he asks Calum to be his boyfriend. They’ve been dating for a couple months and Calum’s not sick of him yet, so Michael’s odds of success are pretty good. But Calum is probably the hottest man Michael has ever seen; he must get random strangers on the street asking him to be their boyfriend on the daily. Michael has to do something to set himself apart from the adoring masses. Proving Calum wrong by successfully baking a romantic cake seems like a really good way to do that.

Which is how Michael finds himself in the baking aisle at the grocery store, trying to figure out what sort of container something called _vanilla bean paste_ might come in. A box? A jar? A bag? Who the fuck knows. He figures paste should come in a bottle, like Elmer’s glue, but there’s nothing on the shelf that looks like Elmer’s glue.

Michael frantically scrolls through the recipe on his phone, hoping maybe somewhere between the blogger’s anecdotes about how much her _kiddos love this cake_ and how _you just can’t resist sprinkles, can you_ , maybe there’s some actual valuable information about what vanilla bean paste looks like. There’s not. Damn food bloggers.

“No one cares about your life, Senorita Sugar Sweetie, just tell me where to find the vanilla bean paste!” Michael mutters under his breath as his eyes resume scanning the shelves in front of him.

He’s going to bake this cake on his own. Definitely. But he’s not above covertly utilizing all the resources available to him. He dials Calum’s number.

“Michael! What are you doing up before noon?” Calum’s voice makes Michael’s heart race. It always does. Michael keeps expecting it to stop once the novelty wears off, but he’s starting to wonder if that will ever happen.

“Is vanilla bean paste a real thing?” Michael asks, ignoring the jab.

“Yes. Why?” Calum sounds confused, which, okay, fair. But Michael’s always saying strange things and asking weird questions. He can still get away with this if he plays his cards right.

“Just got off the phone with my mum and she was complaining she couldn’t find any vanilla bean paste at the store. I figured she couldn’t find any because she was making it up and it’s not a thing that actually exists.”

“No, Michael, it really exists. Why would your mum be shopping for something that doesn’t exist?” 

Michael assumes this is a rhetorical question. “Maybe she just didn’t know what to look for,” he hedges.

“I thought she was looking for vanilla bean paste.”

God fucking damn it. Calum is not making this easy. Michael takes a deep breath. “Yeah, but like...maybe she didn’t know what it looked like. Like if it comes in a jar or a box or whatever.” 

“Oh. Maybe.”

Michael clenches his fist at his side. Why does he have to be obsessed with this beautifully dense enigma of a man? “Do you, um, maybe have some insider knowledge I could share with her?”

“Why do you care so much about your mum finding vanilla bean paste?”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” Michael snaps, wishing he had thought to call Luke for help first. He just really wanted to talk to Calum. It’s a problem, clearly.

Calum seems unbothered by Michael’s outburst. “There’s really only one popular brand,” he says calmly. “Brown jar.”

Finally! “I’ll let her know,” Michael says coolly, honing in on every brown jar on the shelf in front of him.

“Is that why you called?” And shit, he sounds suspicious.

“No! Um.” _Think, Michael, think_. “Do you want to get pizza for dinner tonight?”

“Sure!” Calum replies brightly. 

Well. At least the beautifully dense enigma of a man is easily distracted by pizza.

***

It’s going pretty great, if Michael’s being honest. He started out strong. He gathered all his ingredients, even pre-measured things so he wouldn’t mess up once he started mixing everything together. He turned up Taylor Swift, which for some reason seemed like the only appropriate soundtrack for baking. It just felt right to hum along with _Blank Space_ while he measured out sugar.

Thanks to the KitchenAid mixer his parents bought him as a housewarming gift that he has never touched once in his life prior to today, the mixing part went pretty damn well. He may have gotten a bit of eggshell in the batter, and he is absolutely covered in flour from getting overzealous with the mixer settings, but he created something that looks like cake batter. Probably.

He did, however, forget to preheat the oven. Does it even matter? He never preheats the oven when he makes his pizza rolls and those always turn out fine. But he’s come so far, he really doesn’t want to screw this up now. With a sigh, he wipes his flour-dusted hands on his t-shirt and texts Calum.

 **Michael:** Thinking about making pizza tonight instead of ordering one. I don’t need to preheat the oven, right?

He’s pretty proud of himself. This is some secret agent-level deception. All that binge watching of _The Americans_ is paying off.

 **Calum:** Of course you need to preheat the oven. You always need to preheat the oven.

Michael scoffs. His pizza rolls would beg to differ.

 **Michael:** Always? Even for stuff like pizza rolls or cakes?

 **Calum:** Always. Especially with cakes. It’s chemistry, Michael.

Michael resists the urge to make a flirty joke about _their_ chemistry. He can’t get distracted with flirting right now.

 **Michael:** Good thing I have you around to make cakes so I don’t have to worry about these things.

That’ll definitely throw Calum off the scent. 

While the oven preheats, Michael sinks into one of the wooden chairs around the dining room table and scrolls through pictures of Calum on his phone. He needs a reminder of why he’s putting himself through this, and Calum’s lips are pretty motivating. Not that making the cake has been that hard. Michael really doesn’t know what all the fuss is about. He could probably be on _The Great British Bake Off_ now that he knows you have to preheat the oven. He just doesn’t really understand why you would spend an entire afternoon making a cake when you can just buy one at Whole Foods or something.

The oven dings, alerting Michael that it is officially preheated. He drags himself away from his Calum pictures and slides his two round cake tins into the oven carefully, then sets a timer on his phone. He figures the hardest part is probably over. Now all he has to do is wait for the cake to bake, take it out of the oven, and slap some frosting on it.

The first problem comes when Michael tries to follow the instructions to “turn out cakes onto a wire cooling rack.” A cursory google search of _turn out_ seems to indicate it’s some sort of ballet move, and Michael can’t fathom what it has to do with his cake. It’s probably time to consult with Calum. He wants to call, wants to hear Calum’s voice again, but it’s too risky for this particular line of questioning.

 **Michael:** Did you have to take ballet class to learn to make cakes?

 **Calum:** What the fuck are you talking about.

Hmm. So that’s probably a no. Come to think of it, Luke’s never taken ballet and his cakes are fine.

 **Michael:** Just thought I remembered you saying something about it.

 **Calum:**???????

A string of question marks is not great. Calum is definitely suspicious. But Michael’s got it under control.

 **Michael:** Last weekend when we were on the way to the movies. I swear you said something about turning out cakes.

 **Calum:** I mean, maybe? But that has nothing to do with ballet.

Michael nods thoughtfully and tries a new google search. _Turn out cakes._ The top hit is _Safe Cake Pan Removal_ . Ah. That makes _much_ more sense. Michael whoops and reads through the five step instructions. Five steps to get cake out of a tin? Seriously, has no one ever heard of Whole Foods?

The second problem comes when Michael actually attempts to turn out the cakes, because the instructions LIED. He follows them perfectly, and yet when he flips his first cake tin onto the cooling rack, only half of the cake actually comes out, the rest still stuck inside to the bottom of the tin. Michael digs at it with a butter knife until the rest of the cake shakes loose and then gently places it on top of the first half. It’s probably fine. His luck isn’t much better with the second tin, but now he knows the trick to patch things up with his trusty butter knife, so he’s not too worried.

While he waits for the cake to cool completely, he mixes up a batch of frosting. He’s shocked how incredibly easy it is. Michael could just make a bowl of frosting every week to keep in the fridge for when he wants a snack. He’d probably give himself diabetes within a matter of months, but it might be worth it.

Once the cake is cool, he sets up to assemble his layers, and that’s where he runs into problem number three. The frosting isn’t really covering the cake so much as it is uncovering it. With every brush of Michael’s frosting-covered butter knife, he works up a layer of crumbs. But maybe that’s okay. Rustic cakes are trendy these days, right? Maybe he just accidentally pulled off some really advanced frosting technique. 

He keeps working until he has two layers of crumb-covered cake piled on top of each other. The structural integrity is a little questionable, with the top layer sloping precariously around the edges and dipping in the middle, but it adds character. Michael considers conducting a taste test, but he doesn’t want to ruin the aesthetics by taking a chunk out of the cake, so he resists the urge.

***

“I thought you said you were going to make the pizza?” Calum kicks off his shoes at Michael’s front door and eyes the box from their favorite pizza place sitting on the table.

“I changed my mind. Too much work.” Not to mention a complete ruse.

“Probably smart,” Calum says, pulling Michael into a hug. “Not sure I’d trust someone who doesn’t know the oven needs to be preheated with making a pizza.”

“Hey,” Michael replies, indignant. “I could make an amazing pizza.” It’s hard to stay pissed when Calum is so close but he’s determined to try.

“Sure you could, Mike.” Calum kisses Michael before he can respond, and Michael begrudgingly leans into it, thrilled that the lips he spent half his afternoon staring at are on his own. 

“It’s okay,” Calum says as they separate. “You have talents in other areas.” Damn right he does. “How was your day?” Calum flips open the lid on the pizza box and inhales deeply to savor the scent of fresh cheesy goodness.

“Fine,” Michael replies, handing Calum a plate. He raises his eyebrows teasingly. “I was working on a surprise for you.”

Calum cocks his head, apparently surprised by the mere fact that Michael was planning to surprise him. Or the fact that Michael was capable of planning at all. “What kind of surprise?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Well yeah. Isn’t the whole point that I’ll find out eventually?” Calum grins at Michael, eyes shining with a little bit of mischief, but mostly pure, undiluted adoration. Somehow Michael has tricked this beautiful man into adoring him. He really needs to lock this down.

“Okay, fine. Put down your pizza and I’ll show you your surprise.”

“That was easy,” Calum murmurs, following Michael into the kitchen.

“This is actually a two-part surprise. This is part one.” Michael slides the cake in front of Calum and Calum’s brow furrows. “I made this for you.”

“Is that a cake?” Calum pokes at it experimentally.

“Of course it’s a cake, asshole!”

And suddenly Calum is laughing, like doubled over, bracing himself on the counter _laughing_ , and Michael feels his entire body start to blush. He’s not sure what’s happening but he’s fairly certain he should be embarrassed about it.

“So _that’s_ why you were asking me all those weird questions today,” Calum finally spits out, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now it all makes sense.”

“I’ve never made a cake before!” Michael crosses his arms over his chest and tries his best to glare at Calum. It’s hard to do when Calum is a giggly mess. “I just needed a little guidance.”

Calum’s laughter dissipates into a few lingering wheezes as he composes himself. “Fucking vanilla bean paste.”

“Shut up.”

“Are we going to eat it?” Calum asks, as if it’s a real question.

“Yes, we’re going to eat it! It’s a cake!”

Calum starts wheezing again, but he at least has the decency to bring a hand up to cover his face while he laughs. “Is the second part of the surprise the food poisoning I’m going to have a few hours from now?”

“Fuck you,” Michael says, scowling. “I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend but I don’t know if I want to anymore.”

Calum’s laughter cuts off abruptly. “Wait, what was that?” He grabs Michael’s wrist and smiles at him sweetly, as if he hadn’t just been roasting him two seconds earlier. He pulls it off, too, which is really fucking annoying. “You were going to ask me to be your boyfriend?”

Michael averts his eyes and pushes his lips into a dramatic pout. “Yes.”

“If I eat your cake will you ask?”

“Maybe.” _Obviously._

Calum experimentally opens a few drawers until he finds a fork, then eyes Michael carefully as he digs it into the edge of the cake. He inspects his fork like the contents may be radioactive and Michael huffs at his dramatics. Finally, he takes a bite. Chews thoughtfully. Swallows thickly.

“So…” Michael prompts. The suspense is killing him.

“It’s interesting.” Calum says, choking down another bite of cake. “I think you may have gone a little heavy on the salt.”

“What? No! I measured everything ahead of time! I’m sure I got the measurements right.” Michael pulls out his phone to try to track down Senorita Sugar Sweetie and send her a strongly-worded note about her awful recipe.

“Well.” Calum shrugs and takes another bite of the cake. “Maybe it’s supposed to be a salt cake then,” he says through a grimace.

“Why are you still eating it?”

“Because you made it for me.”

Michael stops poking at his phone and looks up at Calum. “You don’t have to keep eating it. I’m still going to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

“Really?” Calum pauses mid-chew.

Michael considers saying no, letting Calum continue to suffer through a few more bites of cake. But he knows he’s the lucky one here and he shouldn’t push it. He picks the cake up off the counter and dumps the whole thing in the trash. Then he takes Calum’s hands in his. “Calum, will you be my boyfriend even though I may have tried to poison you?”

“Yeah,” Calum smiles, “Of course I will.”

“Cool.” Michael drops his hands. “I’m starving. Let’s have some pizza.”

“But what will we have for dessert?” Calum whines. “You threw away the salt cake!”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr [@staticsounds](https://staticsounds.tumblr.com); come say hi!


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